Quinsar stands outside his tower, planting chickens in the ground.
]The top of his tower is above the clouds.
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Quinsar stands outside his tower, planting chickens in the ground.
]The top of his tower is above the clouds.
A woman is walking up the path on insectoid legs---her lower half is that of a mantis. She wears a grey wool coat over a leather top, and has unremarkable brown hair.
What is remarkable is that she has a pair of marionettes hanging from her upper pair of arms.
We're almost here. I'm so excited! She smiles.
Her right-hand puppet turns to her; it is black from head to toe.
Indeed. Our savior will be a most welcome sight.
The other one, all white, folds its arms.
Yeah, yeah, when do we get to the stabbing of the abominations and the burning of the cursed dwellings and stuff?
The woman peers at Quinsar from afar.
He's planting... something in the ground. Large things...
Particularly large tubers, maybe?
The white puppet takes binoculars from her coat and holds them before her eyes as she peers.
They're hens. Full grown hens.
. . . What the actual Hells is he doing?!
The woman frowns.
I'm sure this will make total sense when I ask him. It's probably a fertility ritual or a symbolic thing or...
The black puppet is silent.
She keeps approaching. Her secondary pair of arms has its hands folded at her midriff, elbows tucked in.
She'll blink and... He's gone!
... I suppose he's gone to... get more... holy things.
Truly, the great one's works require... contemplation.
Lots of it.
And, someone is tapping there shoulder.
I told you clerics that I don't want any thin mints.
She turns around, surprised.
Oh! Your Greatness!
I could go for some thin mints right about now...
The black puppet slaps the white one to shut it up.
Wait, Great one? What?...
You are Quinsar Octarvio, are you not?
We are of the Quintecian Order---though we are not worthy for you to have heard of us, of course.
She bows.
...
...
You worship me?...
She nods.
The white puppet shrugs.
I'm in it for the stabbing. When do we get to that anyway?
We don't stab manythings...
Would you like to come in?
It'd be an honor.
An honor.
What they said.
He heads for the gate!
She follows him in eagerly.
He leads them inside, they step out in what appears to be a busy restaurant!
She gasps, then grins excitedly.
To a table!
He leads them to a table.
She follows, her puppets bickering.
He takes a seat at a table!
She sits across from him, eyes eager.
So...
What was your name?
My name is Fuscia, thank you for asking.
Well, it's nice to meet you Fuscia, and you puppets?
Do they have names?
They don't have names.
... Do you?
She looks at them. They shake their heads.
Oh, very well, so, what would you like to eat?
Oh, er, I'm not sure...
[COLOR="Orange"]Wehave anything you can imagine!
So, just order whatever when you're ready.
She orders... it's something with meat.
Meat thing!